


call it even

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: SladeRobin Week 2020 [5]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alpha Red X, Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Babies, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is a Better Parent Than Bruce Wayne, Good Slade Wilson, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Minor Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Omega Dick Grayson, Original Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson Child, Single Parent Dick Grayson, SladeRobin Week 2020, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Day 5: "What do you want from me?" |Dragons| PregnancyDick’s life operated, primarily, through a very delicate balance of owed favors and a lot of trust that those favors would be repaid.He and Red X had been flinging favors back and forth at each other since Jump, for instance, and even though they’d made themselves even plenty of times, they inevitably ended up owing each other for something in the end.The same could be said for he and Slade―er, Deathstroke.After all that nasty business in Jump City, they had eventually had to run into each other again, and by then he was already dealing so heavily in favors with Red X that it was just instinct to start using that general operating strategy with Deathstroke as well.So that was probably how he’d gotten into this situation.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Original Character, Dick Grayson & Raven, Dick Grayson & Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson & Wally West, Dick Grayson/Red X, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: SladeRobin Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964563
Comments: 9
Kudos: 119
Collections: SladeRobin Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thankfully i've had this idea for a WHILE but this gave me a chance to finally write it! Slade's a good bro in this one lol, but it's back to my more typical ships here with Dick/Red X being the endgame ship (even though that might take a few chapters ha)
> 
> Anyways enjoy!

Dick’s life operated, primarily, through a very delicate balance of owed favors and a lot of trust that those favors would be repaid.

He owed plenty of people and had plenty who owed him, and generally he knew he’d eventually be called on to repay his, just as he’d eventually call on others to repay theirs. It kept things surprisingly simple to operate on those terms―“if ‘a’ happens, then you’ll owe me ‘b’” and so on and so forth. It kept it especially simple to operate on those terms with the various _reasonable_ non-heroes in Gotham. He and Red X had been flinging favors back and forth at each other since Jump, for instance, and even though they’d made themselves even plenty of times, they inevitably ended up owing each other for _something_ in the end.

The same could be said for he and Slade―er, _Deathstroke._

After all that nasty business in Jump City, they had eventually had to run into each other again, and by then he was already dealing so heavily in favors with _Red X_ that it was just instinct to start using that general operating strategy with Deathstroke as well.

So that was probably how he’d gotten into this situation.

Slade was calling in a favor―technically the last one Dick owed, and if they were lucky this would leave the two of them even for a while. Dick really did get tired of owing favors.

Still. This one was… Sort of unprecedented.

It was fairly common knowledge, now, that Slade’s wife had died some time ago, and that he hadn’t taken it well. It was also fairly common knowledge that Slade was an alpha. These were things that Dick was well aware of and not at all surprised by.

What he was surprised by was the heady scent of _rut_ that was following the man around today.

Being that he was an omega and that Slade _knew_ that, they generally didn’t deal with each other when either of them were close to, well… _That time._ In the past it hadn’t been an issue at all, what with Slade’s wife waiting at home for him and a close lieutenant around to take care of things while he was gone, and with Dick being on so goddamn many suppressants that he only went into heat about twice a year and usually the same times of year. This time… Hm.

He wasn’t sure.

He just knew his instincts were starting to go a little haywire and if not for being on the unrealistic amount of suppressants he was on, he’d probably be trying to jump on the poor guy’s dick right now. That was just generally what rut scent did to his brain when it wasn’t coming from, like, _Bruce._

“So are we going to sit here all night, or…?” Dick finally managed to ask, after about twenty minutes of silence (more or less) while Slade tapped away at something on his phone.

Slade jerked, as if surprised, lifting his head. “A fair point,” He said, like Dick speaking hadn’t startled him, “Apologies. Let me get right to the point, then.”

Clearly a classic case of rut-brain, really. He’d probably straight up forgotten that Dick was even there while he was trying to deal with… Whatever he was dealing with. One-track mind, you know? Dick didn’t really blame him, he just… Kind of wanted to go home.

“As I’m sure you can smell, I’ll soon be entering a rut.” Slade said, still calm and to-the-point, “In the past, all preparations for this would be finished already. As it is… Well, there’s a reason I needed to call in that favor.”

“Right,” Dick agreed, not sure he knew where this was going and not sure he wanted to.

“I only have so much time available to me.” Slade sighed, “And it had slipped my mind to prepare for this part of my cycle before now. I have prior plans that can’t really be rescheduled at this point and cannot simply be ignored either… Not to mention the unfortunate fact I need to find someone to… _Assist_ me.”

“So that’s why I’m here.” Dick guessed, lifting a brow.

“Yes.” The alpha sat up a little straighter, “I won’t presume to know what is a reasonable request in this case, but I’ve a couple of… Options, I suppose.”

“Alright, hit me. What do you want from me?"

“First, given that you know how I operate and ply my trade… I’m sure you can guess what I’d ask in this case.” At Dick’s nod of understanding (the first request was for him to run things until Slade returned, clearly), “Second, on a related note but not the _same_ note, there are… _Meetings_ I’m going to be missing. I’d ask of course only that you attend them in my stead.” When Dick nodded again, he said, “And finally… This one, I am aware, is presumptuous.”

“That’s always reassuring to hear.”

He got the feeling that pulled at least a twitch of Slade’s lips.

“I’m going into rut, and you’re an omega,” Was how Slade finally chose to phrase it, “And more than that, you’re someone I’ve few reasons to distrust for this.”

Dick blinked, but ultimately? That wasn’t all that surprising. Neither part was. It was a little jarring that Slade would offer _helping him through his rut_ as a way to pay off his last favor, sure, but not unheard of. Lord knew he’d helped other alphas for similar reasons and on similar conditions. The most unexpected part was probably that it was Slade, who was to his knowledge at _least_ a good six years older than he was and had never shown any interest in the past.

So he nodded to acknowledge he understood and took a moment to mull the choices over.

Running things in Slade’s stead would probably require at least some use of nearly-lethal force, which wasn’t something he was willing to subject himself to at the moment. There was a time and a place for breaking his own personal “no torture” rule, and he didn’t think this was either of them. So, a hard no on that one.

Going to _meetings_ for Slade was a little different. It likely wouldn’t require any fighting unless whoever he was supposed to meet took it as a personal insult that Slade would send someone else, and even in that case it wasn’t likely he was meeting anyone that Dick couldn’t suplex through a table if need be. So it was a “maybe” only on the grounds that he didn’t know what it would entail entirely, and he was at least willing to try.

… Helping Slade through his rut was another monster entirely than either of the other two. Again, it would hardly be the first time he’d paid back a favor by doing it, but it would be the first time with _Slade._ There was something a lot more intimidating about doing it with Slade instead of any of the others―probably due mostly in part to the fact that Slade was older than he was, physically stronger, and, you know, had been his _boss_ for a brief period of time.

But that didn’t make it a hard no.

It was intimidating as an idea, sure, but how bad could it really be? He’d done it before.

And actually? It sounded _way_ better than trying to manage Slade’s meetings for him. Three or more days of basically just getting his brains fucked out? Sounded like a fucking _dream,_ especially since it also cleared him of any other duties during that time. Trying to manage Slade’s duties or meetings while also patrolling would be rough. Telling the others to temporarily cover for him while he helped somebody out with their rut was _way_ easier. Everyone always took it well, and…

Eh, fuck it.

No reason to say no, really.

“I’ll be honest, I was expecting to be a little more averse to my options.” He joked, hearing Slade snort a little, “But let’s… Okay. You’ll be able to find people to fill the others, right? No matter which one I pick?”

Slade nodded. “I have my lieutenant to handle my meetings or regular duties if need be, and there are, of course, _services_ for… Well.”

“How well would your lieutenant deal with your meetings _and_ regular duties?”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Slade said, then paused, “Are you asking for a _particular_ reason?”

Dick mulled it over for another moment, then said, “Listen, helping you through your rut honestly sounds like the easiest option. The others won’t hesitate to pick up my slack if they think I’m helping a friend with their rut―it’s a little different when I’m just picking up someone else’s duties, especially if any of them found out _whose_ duties.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured―”

“I don’t.” He assured him, snorting, “We both know I could walk away from this and you could call the favor in later for something different if that was really what I wanted.”

Slade was silent, then slowly nodded. “Very well. I… You’ll have roughly the next day or so to prepare, give or take. Will that suit you?”

“Sure, I can get most of it sorted out in the next few hours, and work on the rest when I have a more solid idea of when and where I’ll need to show up to help.”

“Good, good… You may want to head home, then. I’ve preparations of my own to be making.”

Though they usually shook hands at this stage of working out a favor, Slade seemed to refrain from reaching out to do so, and Dick took that as a cue that rut-brain was doing more than just distracting him at this point. Within the next day or so _indeed._

So they said their goodbyes and Dick headed to his apartment while he fired off texts to his friends and various other coworkers.

_Wing: paying back a favor, gonna be MIA for a while_

That was the one he sent mostly to coworkers.

To Raven and Wally, he sent the much less fluffed up:

_D: getting my brains fucked out for the foreseeable future lmaoooo be back when i’m done paying off this favor ;p_

Most responses from coworkers were in the “fine, don’t die” range of things.

The responses from Raven and Wally were, respectively:

_R: Jesus Christ._

_R: Don’t hurt yourself._

And,

_W: >:O _

_W: luckkyyyyyyy_

_W: have fun slut_

After assuring Raven that he would be careful, and Wally that he would have fun, he slipped into his apartment for the night and caught a quick catnap. He woke to a text from Slade estimating roughly six hours until he was fully in his rut, and so spent the next four preparing himself before heading for the location they'd agreed upon.

On his arrival, he realized it was a safehouse they'd used before for other favors―a secure one on the outskirts of Gotham that was incredibly well protected, but secluded.

The gravity of the situation hit him in the driveway.

He was letting Slade use him for his rut, and he was probably going to be letting him hit it raw, and he wasn't actually sure if his birth control implant still worked after that last big fight with Killer Croc messed him up badly enough he almost actually had to go to the hospital. There were a lot of risks being taken. He was nervous, but also…

Well.

He always was a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

Why get hooked on Miss H when he could just hop into a dangerous situation and get a much less frowned-upon rush?

He headed into the safehouse, and while Slade had estimated about an additional hour from the time that he arrived before he went into full rut, the scent of it was thick in the air already. Dick could hardly lock the door behind him, and hardly got the chance as Slade emerged from what he knew to be the living room/tac room and rumbled at him.

As soon as he'd gotten the door locked the older man was on him, pinning him to the door and scenting him almost aggressively. Dick allowed it, sort of purring at the attention, and lifted his head to allow Slade access to his neck. Which Slade, of course, took immediate advantage of, laving his tongue over his scent glands and growling softly.

And that was how Dick ended up being picked up and more or less having his pants torn off of him and tossed who knew where while Slade rumbled and seemed pretty intent on having him right there.

"Y'really wanna have to hold me up until you knot goes down?" Dick asked, and thankfully Slade seemed coherent enough to comprehend that, since he pulled him away from the door and carried him into the living room. "I can't believe I expected a hello."

Slade snorted, pinning him onto the edge of a table instead this time, and uttered, "Still mouthy even when you smell so ready for me."

"Mouthy's in my nature," Dick grinned, and Slade dropped his own sweatpants around his thighs as if in response.

Dick, thoroughly prepared with careful fingers all afternoon and now being coaxed into submission by Slade's overwhelmingly thick and overpowering rut-scent, shuddered. Felt himself start getting slick.

He relaxed against the table and tried not to think about the possible bad outcomes of this. And then Slade’s cock was rubbing against his entrance and pressing into him and― And good _God,_ all that prep hadn’t really managed to _prepare him_ for how big Slade was. Made the slide easy and the stretch painless, but didn’t stop the mild surprise. Didn’t stop him from whining and arching his back. And Slade rumbled, low and pleased, bottoming out and returning his mouth to his throat.

Dick couldn’t remember what he’d been worried about.

And, roughly three days later, he woke up the morning after what was likely the last major wave of Slade’s rut with a mild headache and a rumbling stomach. He was on the couch, with Slade behind him, still buried inside of him with his face buried into his hair. It was comfortable, although Dick would admit that ideally he’d rather save positions like this for someone he was _dating_ and not _Slade,_ and he didn’t feel quite hungry enough to try and disengage. He could lay here until Slade woke up.

Which he did, eventually, hardening inside of him and holding him close as he put him through probably the least aggressive round of the entire experience and knotted him up again.

He was full, his headache was pretty much gone, and aside from being hungry and lamenting once more that he didn’t have a boyfriend to do this with instead he had no complaints, so Dick just laid there purring until Slade’s knot went down and he was able to carefully negotiate his body away from Slade’s in the small space, which Slade seemed to understand.

He got up, leaving Dick on the couch for now, and Dick was preparing to attempt getting up to make food with three days of breeding addling his mind and leaving his legs shaky when he realized he smelled food already. And he’d scarcely processed it before Slade, who was thankfully now wearing pants again, was bringing him a plate of breakfast with a mildly apologetic look on his usually rather stoic face.

He accepted the food happily, and accepted Slade’s help in sitting up so he could eat.

It wasn’t until he’d finished his meal and Slade had eaten his own breakfast that either of them spoke.

“Well that was _intense.”_ Dick joked, gently, to break the mildly awkward atmosphere.

Slade chuckled, “I imagine so. How are you feeling?”

“A little sore,” He shrugged in response, “But that’s pretty much normal. And _you?”_

“It… Well. I feel about as exhausted as one expects.” Slade admitted, “Although I’ll admit it was… _Not_ like sharing a rut with my wife. For a lot of reasons.”

“I can’t imagine it would be.” Dick conceded, “I’m not her, for one, and I’d bet your cycles were… Well.”

Slade nodded.

And, eventually, Slade spent some time cleaning up the general safehouse around Dick who remained for now on the couch due to his shaking legs, and after that Slade thanked him for his help and promptly left. Dick didn’t mind.

When he could walk, he cleaned himself and the couch up and got dressed in a spare change of clothes. Left and locked up the safehouse.

Dug his phone out and sent out a few texts.

_Wing: back in the city, should be back on patrol by tonight_

Followed by, privately,

_D: i’m alive and i didn’t strain anything this time so basically the last few days were an absolute win and i dont even feel like i paid back a favor lmao_

Raven responded about as he’d expected―

_R: You are shameless._

_R: But I’m glad that you’re alright and that you clearly had fun._

_R: Are you going to put yourself back on patrol immediately or are you actually going to give yourself time off this time?_

And Wally, well…

_W: did you break your record_

He snorted.

_D: i’ve been resting all day, rae, don’t worry about me, i’ll be in top form by the time i go out on patrol_

Then,

_D: bro i honestly lost count so probably_

_W: hot_

He laughed, and headed back to his apartment, and when he arrived he immediately took a shower in order to scrub away any trace of Slade’s scent, and changed his clothes again. It’d be one thing to be caught smelling sort of like Slade, it’d be another to be fully steeped in his scent, and his rut-scent of all things.

He just hoped that Slade had had the forethought to wash _his_ scent off of him.

Then again, alphas were weird. Maybe he would keep Dick’s scent around as long as he could just for the sake of rubbing it in that he’d recently had a rut and he’d fucked a willing omega through it. Maybe he had been smart and taken a shower. Hard telling!

Dick just knew that suppressing his own scent with scent blockers tonight wouldn’t stop the faint traces of Slade’s scent from clinging to him.

He had to admire that about Slade, though―he wore his scent proudly even as Deathstroke. He didn’t seem to care who recognized it. And he guessed that probably had something to do with Slade not caring if anyone knew who he was _anyway._

Still.

He washed as much of Slade’s scent off of him as he could, he laid down to rest a bit longer, and that night he went out on patrol. Nothing felt weird or out of the ordinary, the night was normal, and no one ever asked about the faint wafts of Slade’s scent that occasionally caught their noses. He saw Roy sort of double-take, once, in a brief moment where he, Roy, and Jason were in a fight together, but even Roy didn’t open his mouth to ask where the smell of Deathstroke was coming from when he clearly wasn’t in the immediate area.

All in all, paying back that favor in that way hadn’t had any immediate consequences aside from a mild limp that was easily explained away and people catching Slade’s scent once or twice. That was hardly as bad as it could have been―imagine if Jason or Roy or Bruce had caught him doing Slade’s duties for him. Ugh. This was _much_ better.

Everything was normal, and everything was fine.


	2. Chapter 2

… Everything was  _ not _ fine.

Now, it was important to note that Dick did not make that assertion blindly, or without reason.

But, caught like a deer in the headlights (and trying not to  _ look _ like one) after three months had passed since paying back his favor to Slade and Wally had stopped in the middle of talking to him to furrow his brows and sniff and assert that he smelled  _ Deathstroke _ on him, he was starting to have plenty of reasons to worry.

This was not the first time someone else had claimed he smelled like Slade.

It was growing common any time he wasn’t using scent blockers.

“I haven’t seen him in  _ months, _ Wally, you’ve gotta be smelling somebody else,” He said, managing not to stutter or lose his composure only through years of practice, “Or, I mean…” He paused, furrowing  _ his _ brow instead, “Like, how strong is the scent? Maybe it’s just some leftover from him using the old safehouse.”

Wally frowned at him, but seemed to believe what he’d said about not seeing Slade lately. “It’s too strong to just be a lingering scent from him sharing a safehouse with you, D. Unless he was, like, doing your laundry for you?”

“He may have,” Dick said, a little helplessly, shrugging, “I know I left some shit there last time and had to go get it, so…”

And that was just… Too much on top of Tim having brought it up, and Damian having brought it up, and even  _ Bruce and Barbara _ having made a passing comment or two about it. He knew it wasn’t his clothes―it was being brought up far too often for that and  _ he couldn’t smell it _ . And if it was strong enough that it couldn’t just be a lingering whiff left over by sharing that safehouse…

Oh,  _ God. _

He was nervous. He was  _ very _ nervous.

Particularly since he’d been waking up with headaches more often, and had gotten nauseated smelling some of Alfred’s food the last time he’d stayed at the Manor.

Nauseated! By  _ Alfred’s _ cooking!

Something was screwy.

Screwy enough that he unceremoniously dipped out of what was  _ supposed _ to be a day for just him and Wally, citing concerns about the scent and needing to see if any of his other clothes smelled like Slade so that he could re-wash them, promised him a rain check, and legged it to the store as soon as he was out of Wally’s sight. The cashier didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow as he paid for a package of pregnancy tests.

And then he booked it home.

Booked it home and  _ fuck. _

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,  _ fuck. _

This couldn’t be happening. This could  _ not _ be happening.

But he stared at not one, not two, but  _ three _ positive pregnancy tests sitting on the bathroom counter and knew that it was. He buried his face in his hands, taking a step away from the counter and letting himself lean into the wall, then slowly slide down. He was pregnant.

He was pregnant  _ with Slade’s kid. _

Now, this was not an issue in that it was Slade’s child, because he could handle that, or even an issue in that he was pregnant, because he could handle that too. It was that it was both at the same time, and at no more than three months he was putting off so much of Slade’s scent as a result that  _ everyone was noticing. _ If Bruce found out, if  _ anyone _ found out…

God, everyone he knew would probably think Slade had  _ raped _ him or something.

Which he could avoid by telling them the truth, of course, but even imagining admitting that he’d let Slade fuck him through a rut without first having checked to make sure his birth control was still operational was so mortifying he almost screamed into his palms.

Bruce, especially, would be furious about this if he found out.

It wouldn’t be because Dick was pregnant, of course, because Bruce might be kind of an insensitive and emotionally constipated  _ jerk _ but he wasn’t, like, prejudiced against omegas and he wouldn’t hold his son in contempt for having a kid even if it was ill-advised. It would be entirely because of  _ who _ had gotten him pregnant and why, and the fact that he hadn’t made prior plans on how to combat this possibility or checked on his other prior plans to be sure they were still viable.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose and prying his hands away from his face, he slowly got up off the floor. Left the bathroom and picked up his phone. Called his doctor.

_ “How may I help you?” _ Asked the receptionist.

“I need to make an appointment.”

_ “Absolutely, Mr. Grayson.” _ She replied,  _ “What day?” _

“What’s the soonest I can come in?”

As if fully able to sense his urgency, she said,  _ “Well, there’s an opening in about an hour.” _

“Great. Awesome. Schedule me for then.”

_ “Is this an emergency, Mr. Grayson?” _ She asked, calmly, but with a gentleness he’d learned to expect of her.

“... I need to have my birth control checked out,” He chose to phrase it, “As soon as possible. Not an emergency, but something I need dealt with.”

_ “Of course.” _ She said, understandingly,  _ “We’ll be expecting you in an hour, then. You’ll be the last appointment of the day, so you’ll have all the time you need.” _

And he knew that was true, because he’d known this doctor since he’d entered Bruce’s custody twelve years ago, before he’d ever even presented as an omega, and knew he didn’t mind being kept in the office after closing if it was important, and especially if it was Dick. He was, after all, one of his oldest clients and one of the most important ones in terms of his family and status. Doing favors for Dick ultimately kept him in business… Not to mention that he was an omega, himself, so he would understand Dick’s concerns at the current moment better than most people, and he knew about the vigilante deal so he would understand how and why Dick’s implant had probably broken.

So he took another shower, trying not to panic as it once again hit him that he was  _ pregnant _ and it was  _ Slade’s _ and he would probably need to do something about it. What ‘do something about it’ meant would… Depend on how he felt about this later.

He arrived at the office twenty minutes early, and sat in a chair trying not to panic, because the smell of panic would do no good at all.

And he sat and waited. Waited.

Swallowed as the door opened up and the last patient of the day (other than him) swept on out and past him.

Swallowed again when the doctor simply motioned to him from where he stood waiting.

Got up and went.

“I’m pregnant.” Was the first thing Dick said to him, when they got into the exam room, and he watched his eyes go very wide, “I’ve taken three pregnancy tests and everyone says they can smell the dad on me even though I haven't seen or spoken to him in three months.”

“Your birth control…?”

“Compromised, I guess.” He sighed, trying to continue holding onto his calm the best he could, “I’d like if you could check. And remove it.”

“Of course. It’ll need removed whether you plan to keep the child or not.”

So they did that, and thankfully it wasn’t an invasive procedure so it could be done right then and there.

“You have any idea when this could have…?”

“Well, there was the fight with Croc about four months ago?” He shrugged somewhat helplessly, “It’s the last time I got thrown around enough that it could have… Done that.” He looked at the broken implant where it lay on the table, “But I didn’t think it… Well.”

“You didn’t think it broke.” The doctor hummed, “And it was a month from that that you engaged in sexual intercourse?”

“Around that, yeah.” Dick sighed, “I was helping an alpha coworker of mine through his rut.” He winced, and the doctor did too, “It was on pretty short notice or I’d have come to get this checked out beforehand. I really didn’t… God, I didn’t think I was gonna get  _ pregnant.” _

“Unexpected pregnancies are always the worst.” He agreed, gently, “Do you know if you want to keep the fetus?”

“I… Don’t know.” He sighed yet again, crossing his arms over his stomach, “I don’t think I want to have an abortion? I might… I might just see if any of my civilian friends are wanting a kid?”

“That would be reasonable. It’s your choice.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Of course. Is there anything else?”

Dick thought that over for a moment.  _ Was _ there anything else? Did he really need anything except prenatal vitamins and various other pregnancy supplies?

… Well, there was  _ one _ thing.

“I don’t suppose you know of any ways to block  _ just _ the father’s scent?” He asked, though he wasn’t hopeful about it, “He’s a coworker but Bruce would be  _ livid _ if he knew who it was. And he’ll definitely recognize the scent if he catches it.”

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look, and that answered that question  _ pretty _ succinctly.

“Okay.” He sagged, “Thanks anyway.”

And after getting recommendations for what to buy and what to do if he chose to keep the baby, which was really the most likely choice, Dick left the office.

He’d need to figure out what he was going to do fairly quickly―he’d already lost about two months of planning time by screwing around and not checking this out earlier on. If he had an abortion no one would ever have to know (except for him), and it could be over just like that. New birth control implant and everything would be normal. If he didn’t, he’d have to find an excuse for wearing scent blockers at all times or face the  _ horrible _ conversation wherein he explained he was on good terms with fucking  _ Deathstroke _ and had, you know,  _ fucked Deathstroke. _

Without a condom.

Several times.

The thing was, he’d always sort of wanted a kid.

Probably wanted a kid of his own more than he actually wanted to get with somebody, at this point. And it was hard telling if that was his instincts trying to get him to have a kid while he was still in prime condition to do it or if that was actually him wanting a kid… Which was the primary reason he was even  _ thinking _ about this instead of just coming up with the answer right off hand.

But, ultimately, a week later he found himself buying all those fun little pregnancy items, like vitamins and supplements.

The only decision left to make was if he would be keeping the baby or putting it up for adoption.

And how he was going to deal with his family in the meantime.

* * *

“Hey, Wals?” He looked over at him, and they were on patrol and it was… Probably the last time he was going to be patrolling for the next several months or the next couple of years.

Wally’s head turned to him immediately, brows lifting. “Yeah?”

“I’m, um…” He sighed, and he couldn’t look at Wally when he said it, “I’m gonna be skipping town for a while. Like, a long while.”

“... Did you get into a fight with Bruce again?”

And believe him when he said he appreciated the protective note in Wally’s voice. That tone that said that if Dick would just  _ let him _ he’d march right up to Bruce and tell him where to stick whatever bad take had set them off this time. It was… Nice.

“No,” Dick said, and at least he could smile a little, “No, we didn’t get into a fight. But I think we might if, um… If he finds out I’m pregnant.”

Wally’s silence made him glance back at him, only to find his best friend staring at him in full-blown shock. Utterly silent, eyes so wide it was still obvious through the mask, mouth slightly agape.

“I,” Said Wally, “I― you―”

“It’ll be less about the ‘being pregnant’ part and more about who the dad is,” He looked away again, “But I’m still pretty sure about that part. So… Yeah. Gonna be skipping out so I can, you know…”

“You’re pregnant,” Wally uttered, “You― Holy shit, D.”

“I know.” He laughed, “I’m surprised too.”

“Who…?” And he paused, eyes going wide again, “Deathstroke. You―”

“Shh!” Dick flinched, regardless of there being absolutely no one around, “Yes, but shhh… Please don’t say it out loud and please don’t― don’t think what I’m pretty sure you’re thinking. He didn’t― It was consensual.”

Wally seemed unsure, but slowly nodded.

“... I owed him a favor, he offered helping with his rut as an option,” He explained, “It seemed like the least troublesome one at the time.” Wally nodded again, looking a little less concerned,  _ “Aaaaand then _ everybody started telling me I smelled like Slade and I bailed on an outing to take pregnancy tests and get my birth control checked.”

“So  _ that’s _ why you dipped that day.”

“Ha, yeah…”

Wally was quiet a moment.

Then, “... Alright. And you’re― You’re keeping it?”

Of course that would be the question. But at least he wasn’t operating under the assumption that Dick had no choice… And it hadn’t been near as awkward to tell  _ him _ that Slade had knocked him up as it would be to try and explain to Bruce or any of his brothers.

“I’m gonna carry it to term, at least.” He answered, “I figure I’ll have reached a decision on if I actually want a kid or not by then―right now it’s hard telling if it’s hormones or not. Then I can see about holding onto it either forever or until it doesn’t smell like Slade anymore and then handing it off to someone who wants a kid.”

“You know it’s  _ still _ weird to hear you call him by his like, legal name? Like really weird?”

“Well now he’s the father of my child, and calling him Deathstroke would feel  _ really weird.” _

“That’s fair.”

Silence.

“... Alright,” Wally sighed, “I― You probably don’t want anyone else knowing, huh?”

“I’d prefer if it could be kept hush hush, yeah.”

Wally nodded. Swallowed. “... Keep in touch?”

“Obviously. I’ll have to use the old Titans comm though, so Bruce can’t track me.”

* * *

He spent the early morning hours coming to terms with disappearing without a word to his brothers―Damian was going to be  _ very _ upset with him, when all was said and done. But at least he had upwards of a year to figure out an excuse and how to make it up to the kid.

And then, in the aftermath of that, he packed.

Vitamins, supplements, clothes, gadgets… He left his phone in his apartment, pulled a little money out of his savings to have cash on him, and thanked God he could pay his rent remotely so he wouldn’t lose the place. It was just a matter of finding a way to make money while he was pregnant, because even as a vigilante with all the skills he needed to keep himself safe he was  _ not _ going to be able to do any kind of intense physical labor in the later months… Partially because he was going to be the size of the moon, partially because his instincts would be telling him to nest and to stay in hiding.

He headed to the very safehouse he’d gotten himself into this mess at first.

He’d need sleep before he could head out.

And, when he woke up, he tried not to feel weird about stealing some of the spare clothes that Slade had left there, along with making note of the body wash and detergent he used.

It wouldn’t be the same as having Slade’s  _ actual _ scent the whole time, but something that smelled  _ like  _ him would help when Dick’s hormones went into overdrive.

Sighing, he climbed onto his bike and plotted a course for Coast City―it’d take days to get there, but at least it was far enough away he wouldn’t be bothered, and he knew Slade had a defunct safehouse there. It’d been put out of commission because he got a better one in a better part of town, but it would work for what Dick needed, which was a secure place with a basement and/or bunker and  _ no one stopping by. _

Except Raven, but he’d specifically asked her to pop in here and there when she had time, so he wasn’t totally alone.

(And he may have been a little angry with her for having already known he was pregnant a month before he did because she could feel the change, but in her defense she  _ had _ assumed he’d known.)

He sighed again.

Started his bike and kicked off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for the lovely comments (and subscriptions)! I'm really glad that y'all are liking this so far
> 
> two more chapters after this one, so there's a lot to pack into a rather small amount of story
> 
> the wordcount is probably going to be rather ridiculous for a 5 chapter story lol

Dick managed to make money, during the earlier parts of his pregnancy, by picking up shifts with the Coast City police as a dispatcher. His prior work history as a police officer in three different cities made it easy to do so, and although there were a lot of stressful or otherwise unsettling calls it wasn’t enough to make him unable to continue. He’d been trained for far worse than back-alley stabbings and home invasions.

The later months, however, after he had begun to put on weight a little more rapidly and had started getting to be rather on-edge at leaving his new little den, were a different story.

Picking up shifts was out of the question when even stepping outside of the building made him uneasy, let alone being away from it for long periods of time. He had to start washing his clothing and bedding in Slade’s preferred detergent scent to ease some of his anxiety, and he’d officially moved to wearing the jacket he’d stolen from Slade in order to trick his brain into thinking the man was around.

Instead, he had to start bartering with the local vigilantes, under an assumed name, to sell them some spare, modified gadgetry.

It was a quick buck, if nothing else, and kept him from having to get into his bank account too often.

While rent was not a concern, and taking out grocery money once a month at the beginning while he was also getting a semi-steady paycheck had built up a wonderful stash, he needed the security of the extra money for the sake of his mental health. Because, sooner or later, he was going to have to buy several months worth of food and other supplies for himself and the baby, and having a surplus of money for that… Made it slightly less nerve-wracking to plan out.

Still, it didn't stop it from being a source of anxiety.

On the other hand, having a little money with which to grease the palms of the medical staff at the hospital would do him a world of good.

And so, inevitably, about six weeks off from his projected due date, he steeled himself, grabbed a significant chunk of cash from his money stash (although not all of it) and his shopping list complete with budget and estimated tax, and attempted not to flinch once again at the number. It was a hefty price… But, he reminded himself, he was attempting to buy baby supplies as well as food and supplies for himself for the first  _ four months _ after having the baby _ , _ at  _ least, _ so of course the estimated price tag was going to be high.

If all went well, there hadn’t been any significant price changes since he did his calculations.

Not that he could be terribly worried, anyway, since he calculated by rounding everything up to the highest he’d seen it anywhere, which got pretty pricey in the end but mostly assured him that he’d be able to afford what he needed.

Keeping in mind at least five grand to convince the hospital he’d never been there, he should still have plenty left over even after this.

He got an Uber, because he trusted them to get him to the store but didn’t trust the store or any driver to pick and deliver this hefty load of groceries if he didn’t hand-pick all of it himself, and made sure to tip. Hopefully, if Bruce was monitoring his bank account, the charges for this Uber and the four it would probably take to ensure all of his supplies got to his home safely wouldn’t look terribly suspicious.

He tipped the driver, thanked them, and waddled inside.

Being very, very heavily pregnant and uneasy, he was able to appear pathetic enough that a worker agreed to help him get his supplies and check out, especially once he mentioned that he had no mate to help him and needed to get a lot of stuff.

“Jeez,” Uttered the worker, “You weren’t kidding.” As they had accumulated two whole carts of things already and had only managed to get partway through Dick’s list.

Dick shot him an apologetic look. “I know, I’m sorry. I need to get it all now, before I get put on bed rest, and some of it wasn’t a good idea to buy any earlier than this.”

“No, no,” The worker seemed to backpedal instantly, and a soothing sort of scent wafted off of the beta in increasing increments as a result, “It’s fine. I’m just surprised you need to do this yourself. It must be awful.”

“It is, a little,” Dick let himself agree, “Thank you again, for helping.”

“Of course,” The worker said, then flagged down another worker to help as well.

Dick’s cheeks were burning, by the end, as he now had three workers (two of whom were also omegas) assisting him, and the beta had insisted on ringing him up at in a closed lane while one of the omegas unloaded everything onto the belt and the other stood with Dick up near the register exuding such a soft and soothing scent that most of his anxiety swiftly faded away. He forgot that was what it felt like to spend time around someone who, even as a stranger, sort of gave a shit about you.

It’d been a while, you know?

Raven hadn’t dropped by in a couple of months, busy with something or other back on the East coast, and not a single person he’d worked with in the meantime had really interacted with him personally.

It occurred to him that, after the baby was born, it couldn’t have hurt to ask Raven to do a little shopping on his behalf, but… No. Better to be prepared.

“Do you need help getting this home?” The omega at his side asked, as both of them watched the total climb higher as each item was scanned, bagged, and deposited back into a cart.

“I was going to call a couple of Ubers,” Dick admitted, “But I feel weird about it now.”

They gave him a sympathetic look, casting a glance at their watch, “I get off in about fifteen minutes. I can help.”

“If it’s not any trouble,” But Dick couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved.

An omega who was already being kind to him and making sure to help him stay calm was a much better (and much less nerve-wracking) bet for ensuring he got everything home… Including himself. In this state it’d be far too easy to end up with a sleazy driver (of any designation) who wanted to take advantage of a pregnant omega. If nothing else, this one was small enough that he could still probably take them in a fight, even roughly eight months pregnant.

“It’s not,” They assured him, kindly.

And no one, not even Slade, could fake the way their scent went even softer and warmer in a total (and totally unintentional) display of “hey, I’m not a threat! You’re safe!”

Left alone at the register with the other two when it came time to pay (and time for the omega to clock out, after explaining to their coworkers what the game plan was), he did manage to get some surprised looks from the two still there when he pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills to pay with.

“I don’t like having to use my bank card,” He said, flushing brightly, “My dad’s pretty protective and he doesn’t know I’m... So I mostly deal in cash.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

He flushed further, while the beta quickly counted up what he’d been handed and started working on getting his change for him. “He doesn’t like the baby’s dad very much,” He admitted, “And I think no matter what I told him he’d probably think I didn’t get a choice, so I’m just… Gonna surprise him with a five-month old grandbaby one day.”

The other omega suppressed a snort, pressing their lips together. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’ve found just springing things on him and giving no answers actually works pretty well with him,” Dick found himself un-tensing, suppressing a smile of his own, “He deals surprisingly well with surprises, and he’d be a hypocrite if he got mad about a lack of answers since he can be pretty secretive himself, so he’ll huff and posture a little about it for a while, but ultimately it won’t be a problem.”

Both the omega and the beta nodded in total understanding.

“That explains why you’re here doing this yourself. Not so much the mate part?”

“I’m on good terms with the dad, but we’re not… We don’t really like each other a whole lot. I was paying back a favor by helping him with a rut and then found out, two months later, oops! My birth control was defective.”

The winces of sympathy from the two of them made him laugh again.

“He doesn’t know, either, and if all goes well he won’t until after my dad does. Not that I’m actually too worried about  _ his _ reaction, because by all means I think he’ll probably be surprised, then, like, weirdly nice about it.”

Realizing, as he was saying it, that it was true was… Kind of weird.

He didn’t think Slade would be upset about this.

He just, like, also didn’t really want Slade to find out. He’d really like if Slade never found out, because he…

Hm.

Slade, historically, wasn’t exactly great with kids.

Look at how he’d treated Dick when he was Robin, after all.

And sure, there could be an argument made for him probably treating a child of his own, who was his flesh and blood and an  _ infant _ and  _ not _ a fairly petulant fourteen year old, better than he’d treated Dick, but Dick wasn’t… He wasn’t willing to take that chance. Given his history of going ballistic when someone he liked got hurt, he could only imagine what he would do to anyone who hurt his  _ kid. _

If he kept it, that was.

But he still couldn’t deny that, regardless of whether he kept it or not, it was  _ not _ going to be given to Slade. No way.

But before he started calculating how likely it was that he’d have to be sneaky with the kid until he could give it away to someone who would actually take care of it, he had a lot of other things he still needed to be doing.

Without asking him, the workers all worked to pile his stuff into the one kind omega’s van and refused to let him help, which would have rankled a lot more if not for his current condition. He was hormonal and vaguely insulted, sure, but he knew his limits.

And then, all of it except for a couple of large items that they’d have to come back for, was blessedly loaded into the van and Dick was able to climb into the passenger seat and direct the omega toward the safehouse he was using.

At the vague concern and the raised eyebrows he got when they got there, he gave them a sheepish smile.

“It belonged to the baby’s dad ― he sort of used it as a bug-out place out here before he got a better one, but it looks… A lot better on the inside than you think. Very homey.”

Taking him at his word, they helped him unload everything and get it inside.

And it was very homey, thanks ― he’d done a lot of minor renovations to make it that way. Curtains and some blankets used to divide off bits of the unsettlingly open-concept house did wonders, as did some rugs and real furniture.

His bedroom, his  _ den, _ was the only room in the house, really, that had walls and a lockable door aside from the bathroom. It also had bulletproof glass in the windows, blackout curtains, and alarms set up to alert him to anyone trying to pop the locks on the windows or the door.

One more trip got everything inside and put away, thank  _ God, _ and he thanked the omega profusely.

He was exhausted and very ready to just curl up in his nest and go to sleep.

With them gone, that was about all there was left for him to do for the day. He could work on setting up the crib and other things between a lot of naps and food over the next week or so before he started in on his least favorite part ― bedrest for the last month or so of the pregnancy, until his due date or until he went into labor.

* * *

The last month and a half went more or less as expected, and Dick, honestly, was grateful for the predictability of it.

He got the crib set up, and the changing table, and the mobile for the crib, because regardless of whether he kept the kid or not he’d need to keep it until it no longer smelled like Slade at the very least, so he needed those items. He also started ‘training’ to make sure he knew how to actually make formula, but he wasn’t sure if he’d need to or not with the way his fucking  _ chest _ felt.

Then again, some babies just refused to breastfeed.

Hopefully his kid wouldn’t be difficult…

But it was  _ his _ kid, so he definitely expected some difficulty.

Regardless, he spent the next month resting as often as he could and being anxious and upset any time he left his nest for longer than about twenty minutes.

His vitamins and supplements and microwave meals were saviors during that time.

And, finally, two days before the projected due date, on November 15th, his water broke at six in the morning.

He cleaned up, got an Uber, and headed to the nearest hospital.

The five grand bribe for silence was accepted, he was put into a room, and he spent the next fourteen hours in labor, sweating and clenching his teeth and biting back screams.

Until finally,  _ finally, _ he pushed out his baby.

A healthy baby girl, the doctors said, and a  _ hungry _ baby girl at that, he soon learned.

Within moments of laying against his chest, she was seeking out food.

He laughed a little, and it was vaguely uncomfortable, but he couldn’t be upset about it.

Exhausted, baby born and fed, he was a little relieved when a nurse re-swaddled her and laid her in a crib nearby, but a little worried as well. He blinked, disgruntled, at the birth certificate when it was offered to him. Then, sighing, filled it out and pointedly left Slade’s name out.

“Unless you can give me a copy without his name to show my dad, I’m not identifying the father.” He said, tiredly, to the somewhat disapproving nurse, “My dad will throw a  _ fit.” _

“You’re twenty-six.” She argued.

“And my dad will still throw a fit. He hates her father and I don’t want to deal with him making a huge deal out of it if he finds out.” He paused. “Besides. I don’t know if I’m keeping her, yet, and I don’t want his name to deter someone from adopting her if I don’t.”

That got an even more disapproving look, but whatever comment the nurse almost made was bitten back as she turned and left.

Fuck her, anyway.

It wasn’t anyone’s business but Dick’s if he kept his kid or not.

… Although, he’d admit, after holding her, after  _ seeing _ her… He wasn't sure he could give her up.

* * *

Raven came to visit on the second day of his hospital stay, sweeping in in casual clothes and with an air of authority that no one had probably dared to question.

She’d probably been able to feel which room he was in, anyway, and he could imagine the unimpressed glower she’d have given the staff when they tried to tell her he wasn’t here.

The concerned nurse trailing behind her told him that much was true, at least ― he reassured them quickly that it was alright, and she’d known he was here.

“How are you?” She asked, taking a seat next to him but making sure she wasn’t between him and his child.

“Tired,” He answered, smiling a little, “I spent  _ fourteen hours _ in labor to pop out  _ that _ little monster.”

He made a vague motion toward the little bundle, who was thankfully getting some rest. She was, admittedly, pretty tiny. Not premature, not unhealthily small, just… Kind of tinier than he’d expected with Slade’s genes.

“She looks like a potato,” Raven commented, brows lifted, lips curved into just a little bit of a smile.

He snapped his fingers, jokingly, “Dang. Should have named her that.”

Raven snorted.

Rested a hand on his head for a moment before running her fingers soothingly through his hair. Her presence and her scent were already doing a wonderful job of soothing him and making him feel a little safer now that he was away from his nest and the scent of his baby’s father, but the added contact definitely helped as well.

He leaned into it, closing his eyes, and sighed. He could talk to Raven about how things were back home later. Right now he just wanted to lay here and soak up the feeling of having a familiar, familial scent around. Raven was safe. Raven was  _ pack,  _ even if they weren’t technically pack-bonded.

She didn’t say a word, as he started to drift off. She just kept petting his hair.

* * *

Arriving back in his den with his baby bundled up against his chest settled his nerves more than he’d ever thought it could.

Arriving back with Raven at his heels only settled them further.

“So,” Said Raven, conversationally, as he laid his little bundle in her crib.

He hummed in question, straightening and looking at her.

“Are you keeping her?” She asked, straight to the point.

He glanced back down into the crib, chewing his lip. He loved and hated in equal measures that that was no longer a question she even needed to ask.

He laughed, a little. Smiled.

“Of course. I’m not…” He reached down, stroking a tiny, chubby cheek, “I’m not strong enough to let her go, I don’t think.”

Glancing back at Raven, he found she was smiling at him. “I’m glad,” She admitted, “Because I don’t think I could take care of her, either, but I’d hate to see anyone else have her but you.”

“Aunt Raven,” He hummed, thoughtfully, then had to stop to snort when something else occurred to him. At Raven’s raised eyebrow and amused smirk, he said, conspiratorially, “Uncle Damian.”

She snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. “Uncle  _ Jason.” _ She offered.

Horrified and amused in equal measures, he countered with,  _ “Grandpa Bruce.” _

The two of them had to sweep out of the room to avoid laughing too loud and waking the baby.

* * *

Holding a six month old baby to his chest with one hand and gripping Raven’s arm with the other, Dick took a deep breath.

“Ready?” Raven asked, steadily.

“Ready,” He confirmed.

And the shadows swallowed them up and deposited them, neatly, into his apartment.

The air was stale and dusty from a year of disuse, but the feeling of  _ home _ washing over him settled him so much better than he’d thought it could. Since the baby no longer smelled of Slade (his scent and Dick’s having combined and morphed into what was now a scent unique to her), it was safe to be back here. Safe to start working on introducing her to family. Getting into the swing of things again.

… It was going to be a lot of work.

He took another deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who voted on the [poll](https://forms.gle/5woz4Ep8mCTTmpmm7) (no longer accepting responses, but you can view the previous ones)! After two weeks I've decided to call it - the winning names were the first name Thea, with 11 votes, and the middle name Mary, with 16 votes! So let's welcome little Thea Mary Grayson to the Batfamily, lol  
> I was also very taken with the name Tillie, which was suggested by someone, so I've chosen to make that her nickname!


End file.
